Title: Fools and Feathers
Author: Goddess Blue
Email: goddess.blue@gmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Xena: Warrior Princess, Hercules the Legendary Journeys
Pairings: Ares/Joxer, Cupid/Strife
Disclaimer: Xena: Warrior Princess, Hercules the Legendary Journeys,
characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Universal
Television Distribution Holdings LLC. They are used here for
entertainment purposes only.
Warning: Explicit sex. Naughty language. First-time.
Status: Complete
Words: 8213
Archive: Yes to AJCS. And joxerotica. And JoxerFic. Anyone else, please ask.
Website: http://www.geocities.com/nonexistent_virtually,
http://www.livejournal.com/users/goddess_blue,
http://www.fanfiction.net/~goddessblue
Notes: This is my response to the Solstice Scribbler challenge, and I
hope whoever requested it likes it and has a very merry holiday.
Summary: In which Cupid makes stupid mistakes in love, Strife gets
Fed. Up. and goes off to find someone a little more empathetic, and
Joxer has the whole world at his feet.
- - -
Joxer trailed along behind the Warrior Princess and her bard,
whistling his theme song.
Quietly.
He didn't understand why the charming verses he'd come up with rubbed
them both the wrong way, but they'd made themselves clear in the way
they'd winced at every enchanting turn of phrase. After watching them
do it for nearly the whole afternoon, he'd finally decided that they
were incapable of appreciating the scope of his creative genius.
The poor, poor fools.
He'd just decided to switch tunes when Xena held a hand up to stop
their little band and halt his noise.
Gabrielle stiffened, Xena's hand flew to her chakram, and Joxer looked
wildly around for a potential threat. The clanging of his armor landed
sharply in the creeping silence and then all hell broke loose.
- - -
It wasn't until Cupid's hands slid down a little further than they
really needed to be that all hell broke loose.
The muse he'd been dancing with tripped on her slippers and fell
backwards, pulling him with her so that they landed in a puddle on the
dance floor, the girl probably banging a shin against the cold marble.
Cupid's wings flexed in a subconscious reaction to their fall, trying
to keep them upright, and managed to shove Aphrodite and Hephaestus
over into the tastefully arranged banquet.
Most of Hestia's special marinade ended up along the side of
Aphrodite's see through dress, and Hephaestus ended up with a handful
of Ambrosia salad. The table tipped over, and a barrel of what was
left of Dionysus' prize wine spilled like blood on a battlefield.
Athena slipped in the sticky mess and landed with a loud plop on her
rear.
It was really the sort of thing that should have been expected at this
particular celebration.
On the other side of the room, the birthday boy watched with a strange
mixture of pleasure and anger. Strife and Cupid had been seeing each
other on the sly since just after Cupid's marriage to Psyche had
crumbled around them. They hadn't been cut out for each other, Cupid
had explained; it hadn't really been love.
Psyche had been lucky enough to find such love elsewhere, and even
Cupid had been happy for her and Asclepius. The rest of Olympus had
waited on baited breath for weeks at the thought of a return from
Cupid's uglier, greener side. It hadn't happened, and they'd all
settled back into a relatively normal rhythm, many wondering where
Cupid had gotten his newly discovered patience.
The truth was that Cupid hadn't found patience, he'd just found a few
better ways to vent. Strife had caught him at a vulnerable moment, and
Cupid had pounced and taken what was his. Strife hadn't complained,
and had even later affirmed that it had been Cupid's all along.
The 'it' being Strife.
Their lack-of-relationship had continued thusly for several months
until Strife had slipped during one of the most intense orgasms of his
existence and said three words which had thrown Cupid into a panic.
Strife had found himself in the peculiar situation of having to seduce
a man who knew everything there was to know about seduction. He'd
swallowed his pride and conned some advice out of Aphrodite, claiming
to have become smitten with one of Ares' priestesses. She'd given him
a beaming 'aren't you so cute' smile, and taken him aside, and told
him all there was to know about seducing a woman.
None of it sounded like something he'd like to do to Cupid; flowers
and honeyed wine just weren't his thing. It had worked in his favor
anyway, since Aphrodite had predictably gushed to Cupid that his
cousin was finally discovering a romantic interest in someone.
Cupid had tracked him down in Corinth where he'd been planning a nasty
surprise for King Iphicles, and carted him off to the nearest temple.
The winged God kept him there for two weeks, his infamous jealousy
prompting him to finally return Strife's declaration.
The wonderful moment had been ruined for Strife when Cupid had added,
"I'd rather no one found out about us yet, though. I'm not sure I'm
ready."
"Not," Strife had spluttered, "ready? As in, 'I love you, but I'm not
ready?' not ready?"
Cupid had looked deeply into his eyes and melted his indignation with
a hopeful look, "I'm just not ready. I don't think /we're/ ready for
the pressure that the rest of Olympus would put us under, if they
knew."
Strife had opened his mouth to argue, but Cupid had interrupted him, "Please?"
So Strife hadn't pushed Cupid. He'd snuk into and out of Cupid's
temple three nights a week, disappeared periodically to any place
Cupid asked him to be, and tried very hard not to act miserable. He
walked out of every meeting instead of flashing out, because Cupid was
concerned that his power signature would be traced. He made the most
ridiculous excuses to Ares for missing this or that. He avoided
Aphrodite as much as he possibly could. It had gone on for over a
year, and Cupid didn't seem to be getting any further towards
acknowledging him in front of the pantheon.
But today was his birthday (three-hundred-seventeen mischief-filled
years, thanks), and what he'd really wanted was some kind of
declaration from his lover. It wasn't as if he'd been asking for
ballads and love songs on bended knee in front of the Pantheon; he
really just wanted to show up with Cupid. A dance, maybe. He'd even
dressed up in clothes he /knew/ Cupid liked, soft tan breeches and a
clean, white shirt. He'd grown his hair out a few inches.
But Cupid had flashed in, shook his hand and patted his back, and
swept the nearest Goddess onto the floor.
So could he be blamed if he'd watched and fumed? Could he be blamed if
his frustration had sparked trouble for Cupid and his wandering hands?
Could anyone really be upset that Cupid lost a few feathers for his
trouble, and Strife's eyes flashed with empty satisfaction?
Hera's shoes were turning red, stained from the wine.
The party ground to a halt.
- - -
Joxer counted three attackers as he pulled for his sword.
Which was stuck.
Strange, he'd sharpened it earlier, and his scabbard had been well
taken care of, so there shouldn't have been a problem. Weapons
malfunction... well, this didn't matter. Happened to lots of heroes,
really. Besides, he could kill with just his bare hands.
Okay, maybe kill was a little strong. Joxer preferred to disable.
With a lusty shout, Joxer dashed into the battle, tripping Gabrielle as he went.
- - -
"You did that on purpose," Cupid had retreated to one of the War
temple's guest rooms and was fooling with his plumage. He'd given
Strife a speaking look as he'd left the arguing guests, and Strife had
rolled his eyes and followed after him.
"It's mah party. I c'n trash it if I want to," Strife grumbled. He
fished out a dagger and proceeded to pick at his nails while his
boyfriend groomed. Cupid finished with his wings, then ran a hand
through his hair. He turned to Strife and watched him fidget, not
meeting his eyes.
"What's your problem, Strife?"
Strife was quiet for a moment then let his hand drop to his side,
dagger dangling. "You weh all ovah her."
"I thought we'd agreed we weren't ready to tell anyone-"
"No, you agreed. You ain't ready. I'm ready. Ah've been ready."
"Strife-"
"I love ya, Cupid." Cupid squirmed, and Strife flashed his dagger
away. "I love ya, but I ain't gonna do this no more."
"Strife, I love you, too. I just..." Cupid trailed off and they shared
an uncomfortable silence.
"Yeah, I know. Ya ain't 'ready'." Strife really, really wanted to be
angry. And he would be, later, but not when Cupid was around to see
it. "Maybeh this just ain't gonna work. Maybeh we should quit tryin'."
- - -
"Joxer!" Xena shouted in warning, and then winced as the would-be
warrior went down hard. Luckily, he took one of the thugs down with
him. She took advantage of the distraction and kicked the man across
the back of his head. There was a muffled groan, and then Joxer was
effectively pinned by the dead... er, unconscious... weight.
"Stay right there, Joxer. Don't try to get up!"
- - -
"What are you saying?" Cupid whispered, blindsided.
Strife sighed and threw his hands up. "We should break up."
"What? Why?"
Cupid looked honestly confused, which irritated Strife even more, but
the Mischief God held his anger back. For now. "You ain't ready to
tell anyone about us, and I ain't gonna wait around forever. Sorry,
Cupes. It's been fun."
"Fun? You said you loved me."
"Maybeh I lied."
- - -
"Joxer! I thought I told you to stay down!"
"I can't help from down there!" Joxer held up his sword, having
finally rescued it from its scabbard, and growled at the last of the
three thugs... who was immediately joined by four more who seemed to
seep from the forest itself. "Uh oh."
"Joxer! Duck!"
Joxer ducked.
- - -
The silence stretched between them, and Strife studiously avoided
meeting Cupid's eyes.
"But, you didn't lie. I know you love me."
Strife shrugged, and before Cupid could say another word, blinked out.
- - -
The man in front of him landed on his back, out for the count and
bleeding from his nose. Two of the four new men moved to Xena and
Gabrielle, weapons drawn and poised to do damage.
The other two smiled menacingly down at Joxer.
Joxer scrambled to his feet and waved his sword threateningly at the
two. They exchanged glances, smiled, and advanced on him.
- - -
Cupid stared at the empty space in front of him, mouth hanging open,
and tried to absorb what had just happened. Strife loved him, he knew
that. It was obvious in the way Strife said his name and looked at him
and catered to his every whim... okay, maybe that wasn't a good
example. Surely Cupid hadn't been /that/ selfish.
Had he?
- - -
Xena finished tying up the last of the unconscious goons while
Gabrielle worked on the wicked cut on Joxer's upper arm.
He flexed his muscles and smiled warmly at her. Battle wounds,
guaranteed to impress the ladies.
She rolled her eyes and gently bopped him on the nose with her free
hand. "Xena said to stay /down/, Joxer. You could've gotten /killed/.
That was dangerous."
He was warmed by her show of concern--
"It's not like you could do anything to /help/ anyway! And you tripped me!"
His smile fell at the subsequent, and a little more forceful, bop to
his nose. "Sorry, Gabby. I was just trying to help--"
"And don't call me that. You know I don't like that nickname, Joxer."
She pulled tight on the strip of cloth over his wound and stepped away
with a nod. "That should hold until we get to town. You shouldn't take
these kinds of chances, Joxer. Come on, we'd better get moving if we
want to get in to see the local magistrate before sundown."
Xena woke the last of the men up and guided them together to their
feet. "Get moving, or you'll be feeling my chakram in an uncomfortable
place, boys."
The began to move; as quickly as the ne'er-do-wells /could/ being tied
together like that, towards town.
Joxer ambled after them, slumped into himself for a minute... and then
from the corner of his eye he saw a shadow move amongst the forest
trees. His head whipped around to see Xena busy with their captives
and Gabrielle busy with Argo.
They hadn't seen anything...
He turned back, but the shadow was gone. There was a clank as he
stopped walking. Xena stiffened, "What's wrong Joxer?"
"Er... I need to visit the little warrior's bush, Xena. I'll catch up
with you two?"
Gabby's nose wrinkled up and Xena smirked. One of their captives made
an aborted attempt at a joke until Xena waved at him with her chakram.
"Fine, Joxer. We'll see you in town. Don't be long... and be careful!"
Be careful? Joxer huffed internally; for all she knew he was going to
take a leak.
"Sure Xena."
And then he ambled off into the trees, patting himself on the back for
being the only one of them to realize that they hadn't caught the
group leader; the only one to notice the shadow.
- - -
Ares watched the chaos of his nephew's fizzled birthday party proudly,
and then frowned when Cupid flashed back in. He looked around at the
crowd for something, or someone, as if annoyed.
Strife hadn't returned, though Ares had seen Cupid motion him away,
which meant that he was probably responsible for the mess and had had
a fight with Cupid over it.
Which possibly meant he was off somewhere sulking.
This would never do, if only because he hadn't yet given Strife his
birthday present. With a flex of his power, he disappeared from amidst
the shouting guests to a clear field in the daylight of Greece, hidden
from mortal vision.
His nephew crouched behind a convenient bush and watched as Xena and
her little side-kick attempted to wrestle seven rather big men towards
the nearest township.
"Hero baiting?"
Strife sighed and then glared back at Ares, who decided not to let it
annoy him. "It's your birthday, and you're here?"
"Ya heah to yell at me fah the party?"
"No. I thought that was actually kind of funny. Besides, it was your
party. You didn't have to leave. In fact, you missed a rather amusing
scene between Aphrodite and Athena; something about Aphrodite helping
her fall back into the wine after she'd finally gotten up."
Strife waved it off. "Not in tha mood."
"And you think Xena and the bard will cheer you up?"
At that moment, there was a high yelp as one of the captives found the
rope around his wrists loosening. And then a muffled "oomph" as he
fell to the ground unconscious and dragged his buddies down after him.
Strife giggled.
"Right. Well, if you're not going back, then I guess I'll have to give
you your present now."
Strife straightened and smiled hopefully at his uncle. "Mah present?"
"A week," Ares intoned, "a week just for yourself. No War duties, no
Godly duties. No late-night calls. No questions. Just yours to do with
as you please. I won't even ask what you do with it, so long as you
have fun. Spend time with anyone you want," he stressed the last
sentence and looked away.
Strife stared at him, then frowned. "But wha about that war up in Thrace?"
"Your mother and I will handle it. Stop asking me questions, or I'll
change my mind."
"Thanks, Unc!"
Ares waved him off, and then studied the scene in front of them.
"Where's that bungling little warrior that follows after them?"
"Maybe he ain't with 'em today?"
"Of course he is, he was here just a few days ago when I had them
ambushed outside of Athens," Ares squinted and looked after Xena,
who'd finally gotten their little group moving again.
Strife shrugged and looked around... and then narrowed his eyes in the
direction from which Xena and Gabrielle had come. "He's probly around,
Unc. I'm gonna start my week now."
Ares looked back over at him, raising both eyebrows in surprise.
Strife stared back at him.
Ares sighed, "All right, I'll see you next week."
- - -
Strife found Joxer moments later, and the man had gotten himself into
some serious trouble. He lay tied and bound at the feet of a rather
grotesquely large man who seemed to think himself lucky indeed. It was
clear that Joxer had struggled at the beginning, although he'd
obviously given up now. He stared up at his captor, eyes wide.
But not with fear.
It was more like... curiosity. His eyelids dipped low for a moment,
and then fluttered back up and he smiled through the roughly put
together gag. Smiled big.
The man lost his own smile and said, voice gravelly, "What're /you/
smiling at, pansy?"
Joxer tensed in his bonds and the man's eyes narrowed. "What are you up to--"
His suspicious questioning was cut off as the clump of dirt flew into
his face, getting into his eyes and making him cry out and claw at
himself. Strife settled in to watch and smirked at the young warrior's
antics.
Joxer struggled wildly against the ropes and as a consequence got
nearly three feet away from the cursing goon before he managed to wipe
the debris from his eyes. "You little /shit/. I was gonna just /kill/
you to show Xena that she can't push everyone around--"
Strife snorted at the idea of this man showing Xena /anything./
"--but now I'm gonna let you /live/, kid. I'm gonna make sure you
remember my name!"
And then the mercenary took two strides forward and kicked Joxer
viciously... in the head.
A flare of something rather angry shot in Strife's guts. He'd never
been a fan of kicking people while they were down; there wasn't any
effort or finesse in it. He'd been watching the little warrior,
certain he'd pull something out of that distressingly lucky little ass
of his before the situation became violent, but with the mercenary's
show of cruelty it became obvious that Strife was about /it/ for the
mortal.
Where the hell was Xena when you needed her?
The man towered over the unconscious form of Ares' least skilled
warrior and exuded impatience. He was waiting for Joxer to wake up so
that he could punish a receptive audience. Luckily for him, he
wouldn't have to wait. Strife was paying /very/ close attention.
He came to his feet and flashed into existence across from the man,
Joxer between them.
"If he don't wake up soon, ain't /no one/ gonna remember yah name."
The man reared back and fell flat to his ass in the mussed dirt,
staring up at Strife in shock. "Who're you?"
"Wouldn't you like ta know?" Strife wasn't stupid; if Xena knew he was
out defending her little tag-a-long she'd start wanting to know /why/.
And since he didn't really have a concrete reason, Strife had rather
just keep her off his back as long as possible. "Don't worry 'bout it.
'M sure Hades'll fill you in."
The man's eyes widened imperceptibly before the fireball hit him,
causing him to scream and writhe in agony.
At Strife's feet, Joxer twitched and groaned.
Strife waved a hand and the screaming mass of flesh and bone was
transported to a field somewhere just outside of Corinth--let Iphicles
clean that shit up.
And then Joxer shook his head gingerly and looked up at him, and
Strife realized he was still visible.
Joxer didn't look suprised to see him.
They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Strife
realized that the mortal was still tied up, and after saving him he
couldn't just /leave/ him here.
Well, he could. But Cupid would be disappointed in him and--
Strife frowned and Joxer frowned back at him in confusion. With a sigh
and a shake of his head; it may take a while to get over this Cupid
stuff; Strife bent and removed the gag.
Joxer coughed and struggled, and then settled back into his ropes and
clanking armor and smiled up at Strife. "Hi. I'm Joxer."
"Str... er... Stropacus. You can call me Strop. You okay?" He /really/
didn't need Xena on his back. And anyway, hadn't the pissant seen him
before? He hoped there wasn't any permanent damage to the head--oh,
wait. He was still dressed up in that froofy outfit for Cupid.
Life. Sucked.
"Nice to meet you, Strop. Can you... I hate to ask, and normally I'd
just untie myself, but I think I lost my dagger and--"
Strife rolled his eyes and bent to untie the mortal completely.
"Ah, thank you." Joxer struggled to his feet--only fell twice, and
that could conceivably be blamed on the rush of blood to his abused
head--and then hugged Strife warmly. Then realized he was hugging
another man and pulled back to punch him weakly on the shoulder. "That
was an adventure, wasn't it? I bet he had you as his prisoner, too. Is
there anyone else? You're lucky I rescued you."
"Yeah--wha?"
"He didn't have anyone else, then?" Joxer asked again, and Strife
wondered if he'd imagined him saying that last part.
If he was going crazy--well, at least it was a family tradition.
"You're really kind of lucky, though," Joxer interrupted Strife's
musing. "I mean, if I hadn't come along just then, who knows what
might have happened to you."
Strife paused then, and turned his head to stare in shock at Joxer's
earnest countenance. Okay, not hearing things.
"Excuse me?"
Joxer walked a few steps towards the open road, then stopped when he
realized that Strife wasn't keeping up with him. He turned, "Don't
worry, I won't tell anyone that you needed me to save you. Come on,
I'm sure Gabby and Xena won't mind you tagging along. They've got this
soft spot for... well, people like you."
"People like..." Strife trailed off and raised an eyebrow, fighting
back the urge to take offense, "...me?"
Joxer walked back to him, and then patted his shoulder comfortingly,
"You know, defenseless kids. Hey," Joxer held up his hands at Strife's
perplexed frown, "It's okay. I was like that once too, a long time
ago. You'll learn."
Joxer gave him a bright, encouraging smile.
Well... Strife did need somewhere to stay for the next week. And Joxer
obviously needed some divine intervention...
Part 2
Two days later found the four of them camped on the other side of the
farming village, gathered around their campfire, listening to the
harpy's stories.
It had been kind of easy to convince Xena and Gabrielle that he was
just a random traveler who'd been captured by Brathus--that turned out
to be the mercenary's name--and subsequently rescued by Joxer. He'd
gone with Joxer's story, mostly because he was unarmed and it was a
little easier to believe that Joxer might have inadvertently tripped
the merc and saved him.
He was traveling with them because "tha roads just ain't /safe/
anymore. Yah headed to Thrace? Whatta coincidence..."
As long as he didn't use any of his Godly powers to help himself
along, Xena wouldn't be able to sense him with that freaky birthright
of hers, and he was still pretty well disguised by the new duds and
longer hair.
The hardest part was remembering to answer to 'Stropacus,' though
Joxer made it easier by usually referring to him as 'Strop,' which was
close enough to 'Strife' to make him turn his head and look around.
He'd been careful enough not to let the mortal get any sleep that
first night in the barn they'd managed to beg off some village person.
If Joxer went to sleep with an injury to his head without proving to
Strife's satisfaction that he didn't have a concussion, he might never
wake up.
So for a whole moonlit night Strife was treated to the bouncy, cheery,
bumbling enigma that was Joxer.
The man had talked on and on about his adventures, some of which
Strife had heard of before and knew for a fact the mortal hadn't even
been /near/ at the time in which they occured. But Joxer just looked
so innocently truthful when he told his stories that Strife couldn't
resist checking the mortal's thoughts using his Godly powers, even
with Xena snoring just ten feet away from them.
It had surprised him to find that Joxer was, indeed, telling the
truth. Or rather, /a/ truth.
/His/ truth.
The world through Joxer's eyes, Strife mused while Joxer babbled on,
was really quite beautiful. Men were real men. Women were real women.
Even Gabrielle was a beautiful, caring, loving woman in Joxer's truth,
which explained a lot. Like why the idiot--no, not an idiot--warrior
followed after her like a trained puppy. In Joxer's world she was
worthy of it.
In Joxer's world Xena and Hercules were the legends they one day would
be, and not just the heroes they currently were. In Joxer's world
/Joxer/ was a hero, too.
Strife had pulled out quickly after that and just settled down to
listen to Joxer tell his own version of Greece's greatest triumphs,
only jumping in to prod him when he seemed a little sleepy. Joxer was
a champ, actually; he'd only yawned widely and never once complained
that Strife seemed determined to keep him awake.
He hadn't complained throughout their whole day of travels that day,
either, and seemed determined now not to fall asleep until Gabrielle's
story was complete.
And she was taking one hell of a long time to tell it...
"--and then the mighty Hercules swept down on Geryon, club in hand,
and knocked his third head out. While the monster lay unconscious,
Hercules freed the Spanish cattle and led them to safety and on to
Zeus."
Gabrielle smiled beatifically at them, and Xena clapped dutifully.
Strife resisted the urge to roll his eyes and remained silent, but
Joxer frowned across the fire at the object of his affections.
"Wait... he stole the cattle?"
Gabrielle sighed and shook her head, "No, Joxer. Geryon was a monster."
"And the cattle were his, right? I mean, just because Zeus wanted them--"
"He was a /monster/."
"A monster who owned cattle. I thought Hercules said stealing was wrong?"
"Stealing /is/ wrong, Joxer. But Geryon wasn't a man... he didn't
really own that cattle. He probably stole them."
"But--"
"Listen, Joxer. It's late, and you were dragging /all/ day. Get some
sleep," Xena stepped in to cut off the argument. Strife sighed and
settled back into his bedroll, and then stiffened as Xena leapt to her
feet. "Show yourself, Ares!"
They all looked around wildly for a moment, except Strife who winced
and settled deeper into his bedroll and tried to look scared.
"You know, the idiot--"
[Not an idiot.] Strife sent to Ares mid-sentence.
"--has a point. Hercules is a big, fat hypocrite. New company?" Ares
narrowed his eyes at Strife and mentally sent back, [What the hell are
you doing here?]
[Whatever the /hell/ I want, Unc. Birthday present, remember?]
"Leave him alone, Ares. Your fight is with /me/."
Xena's sword tip dipped and she took on a battle stance worthy of the
finest warrior.
[You've been spending all this time with that useless mortal?]
Ares took to having two conversations at once with his natural aplomb;
"All right, let's rumble."
Strife rolled his eyes, and luckily wasn't caught by any of the other
members of their little group. Beside him, Joxer relaxed into the
perfect position to get the most out of his opportunity to watch the
God of War fight his once-greatest warrior.
[Oh, he ain't that bad. Well... at first he's a little--but he gets
bettuh! Takes my mind offa things. He's great,] Strife sent to Ares.
[Is he?]
The clank of steel against steel rang through their campsite, and
Gabrielle took the opportunity to scramble back to her companions and
put a hand on Joxer's arm to stay him. It looked almost as if he'd
wanted to get up and /help/.
[Hey, you gave me the week off. I get ta pick who I spend it with. And
I wanna spend it with the useless mortal, even if he's got cruddy
taste in friends. Besides, I can't leave /now/. Said ah'd be his
sidekick today. He's gonna change the song.]
Strife watched in glee as Ares' footing slipped and Xena got in a lucky cut.
Ares threw him a glare and swept a leg under Xena's, attempting to
knock her down. She jumped over his leg, though and summersaulted back
about ten feet. "What do you /want/, Ares?"
"Really? I want what every God wants. A nice, soft bed waiting for me
with a warm body in it. Flowers for my birthday. Your bard's head in
my trophy room."
Joxer flinched beside him and Xena growled, charging Ares.
Ares side-stepped her, and she quickly tumbled out of the head she'd
fallen into. "Never let them get you angry, Xena."
[Have fun then, Strife.]
And he flashed out, as if he never was.
- - -
Ares threw himself down in his throne in a huff. It figured. All that
work and sacrifice--it hadn't been /easy/ finding a way to give Strife
a whole week off--and the kid wasn't even spending his vacation in the
/right place./
He conjured up a mirror and watched the scene he'd left. In the little
camp, Xena let her frustrations out on her bedroll as Gabrielle tried
to calm her down. On the other side of the campfire Joxer patted
Strife gently on the shoulder.
~"Don't worry about Lord Ares, he's not a bad God."~
Strife turned to look at him, and Ares could see the disbelief on his
face. Ares was probably sharing the same expression. ~"Not a bad
God?"~
~"Nah. He's just... what he is. Necessary. And he likes to make Xena angry."~
Ares grunted.
~"Besides, she kind of brings it on herself, the way she talks about
him. And Gabby, too, for all that. I mean, I..."~ Joxer blushed,
~"--like Gabby a lot, but she really shouldn't talk about the Gods
like that."~
Xena turned on him. ~"Joxer, shut up. Ares is /evil/--"~
Joxer shut up, and exchanged a speaking look with Strife, who was
enjoying this argument a little too much. Especially since it looked
like it wasn't the first time the threesome had had this discussion.
~"I don't know how we'll ever get it through your head, Joxer,"~
Gabrielle interrupted Xena, ~"With all the times we've been attacked,
you'd think you'd figure out we were /on to/ something."~
Joxer didn't look as if he could keep his argument back, ~"With all
the times we've been attacked, you'd think /you'd/ figure out that
they don't like being blasphemed."~
Gabrielle threw her hands up, and Xena grit her teeth and answered
him, ~"Joxer, Ares is--"~
~"Necessary."~
~"I /know/, but that doesn't mean I have to /like/ him."~
~"I didn't say you had to like him,"~ Joxer said, ~"but you're not
going to be able to get much done if you don't just let it /go/ and
get on with your own redemption. You don't have to be openly hostile.
You could just try /ignoring/ him."~
Ares huffed at the thought of being ignored.
Xena rocked back on her heels and stared at Joxer.
~"I mean, think about it,"~ he went on, ~"if he wasn't all over you
all the time for spreading stories about how /evil/ he is, maybe you'd
be able to help a lot more people."~
There was silence for a minute, and Ares could hear Strife mentally cheering.
"What are you looking at?" Cupid's voice startled Ares out of his
spying, and Cupid grabbed hold of the mirror.
"I thought you didn't know where he /was/," Cupid growled at his
father after studying the scene--specifically the way Strife was
leaning into Joxer and mentally cheering him on.
"I didn't, not until tonight." Ares leaned back in his throne, and
offered a thin smile, "I gave him the week off, and it looks like he's
getting cosy with Xena's pet warrior--"
Cupid had flashed out, mirror in hand, before Ares could finish his sentence.
The God of War smiled brighter and conjured up another mirror.
About time.
- - -
Cupid appeared in a flash of blue sparks and all of them whirled with
weapons ready, except Strife who didn't have any.
Cupid glared at Joxer.
"Cupid?" Gabrielle asked, confused.
"Excuse me, that belongs to me."
"Hey!" Strife began, before he was flashed--protesting--back to Olympus.
- - -
"Woah," Joxer said, after the silence had stretched on for an awkward
amount of time.
"Cupid," Xena shouted, "bring Stropacus back right now!"
There was no answer, and in an angry huff, Xena began to pack up her
belongings. "Come on, we've got to press on to Thrace. There'll be a
temple to Cupid... or maybe /Aphrodite/... there, and we can see where
he's gone to."
Gabrielle stayed her hands, "Come on, Xena. It's too late tonight. We
won't be any good to Stropacus if we're dead on our feet. And it's
Cupid. What could he possibly do to Stropacus?"
- - -
Strife was naked and tied to Cupid's bed with delicate, deceptively
strong metal links looped around his wrists. "What's this?"
"Come on, Strife. Hephaestus wanted to marry my mother, and that
required making nice with the adopted kids. Ergo, special Hephaestian
chains, courtesy Daddy Heph." Cupid didn't look at Strife as he said
this, he was far too busy stripping him of his soft, cowhide breeches.
"Did I mention the new look turns me /on./ Not so much that it looks
good on you--"
Strife tried really hard not to take offense at that, having learned
that Cupid often said really stupid things when they were half-naked.
Aphrodite had once explained to him that Cupid was affected by what
she called the 'duh-face' aspect of love. Certain lovers, when faced
with their heart's desire, tended more toward the helpless spluttering
and awkwardly placed statements than poetry and song. She'd said that
Cupid had gotten that particular manifestation of love, and thank
goodness it hadn't been her.
Strife had just been thankful that the occasional inappropriate
comment was more Cupid's /nature/ than any intent on his part to harm
Strife.
"--but the fact that you did it. Just. For. Me."
"Didn't think ya noticed."
"Oh, I noticed." The breeches were down around his thighs now, and
Cupid bent over his--suprise!--erection.
"Don't."
It really killed him to stop Cupid, but...
"Huh?"
"Don't. I told ya, Cupes. We're /over./"
"Don't say that, Strife. We're having problems, but that doesn't mean
we're over--"
"Problems? Cupes. I can't anymore. Okay? Just... let me go."
"No," Cupid squeezed his thighs then, and stared at him.
"Yeah. I can't do this--"
"I want to tell them."
"--anymore. What?"
"You were right, and I was wrong. I just needed you to shove my face
in it before I could realize that I love you so much and you /deserve/
for everyone to know it."
"Oh."
Cupid smiled at him, and then Strife smiled back, and they shared a
tender moment before Cupid bent over him again.
"Wait."
"What!" Cupid's head shot up and he glared at Strife. Strife smirked.
"Not until /everyone/ knows."
Cupid grumbled, and then smirked right back at him, "Okay."
And then there was a flew of power and they were both naked and Cupid
was crawling on top of him, until they were face to face. He nuzzled
his face in Strife's neck.
"I wasn't kidding, Cupes--"
"Hermes!"
"--you're not--"
"Yeah, Cupid? Woah!"
"--getting /any/ action until everyone knows... shit. Hi, Hermes."
"Woah."
Cupid bit at Strife's neck. "Hermes, I have a message. Ready?"
"Woah."
"'Cupid, God of Love, would like for it to be known that he is happily
and irrevocably in love with Strife, God of Mischief. Forever and
ever.' Get that?"
"Uh..." Hermes cleared his throat and looked away when Strife sort of
bumped upwards into Cupid. "Right. Who's it to?"
"Everyone."
"The Pantheon?"
"No, everyone."
"Er... the demi-gods too?"
"No, Hermes. I want everyone in Greece and on Olympus or anywhere in
between to hear that message. And make it quick."
Hermes shifted uncomfortably, "That's gonna take a while, dude. And
I'm a busy guy--"
"Do it now, and quick, or you'll be fucking fat merchants in Thebes
for the rest of your existence."
"Geeze. You need to get laid, Cupid."
"Yes. I do."
"Me too," Strife finally added to the conversation, "so get going, message-boy."
"Okay, you're gonna regret that one."
And then Hermes flashed out and Strife and Cupid were left alone.
"Strife--"
"That's long enough to wait."
"Yes!" Cupid dived back into Strife's neck, and Strife resolved to
thank Hephaestus as soon as he could move again.
Cupid bit him in the good place just below his jaw, and he jerked
against the chains, up against Cupid.
Cupid bit him there again.
"You fucking tease, Cupes!"
Cupid chuckled and kissed down his body to Strife's neglected erection.
Strife howled in thanks as Cupid slid his tongue along the length.
Part 3
Hermes flashed into the council chamber, where a meeting of the House
of Intellect and the two rulers of Olympus was taking place.
Apollo and Athena stopped mid-argument and stared at Hermes when he
cleared his throat.
Hera turned to him expectantly.
Zeus frowned.
Hermes cleared his throat again, and began to deliver Cupid's message:
"'Cupid, God of Love, would like for it to be known that he is happily
and irrevocably in love with Strife, God of Mischief. Forever and
ever.'"
And then he flashed out, and the council chamber remained silent for a
little while longer.
- - -
"Oh, /Heph/..."
"My love," Hephaestus slipped the sleeve of her gown off of her
shoulder, and then pulled it hastily back up when Hermes flashed in.
Hermes didn't acknowledge Hephaestus' glare, he just opened his mouth
and delivered: "'Cupid, God of Love, would like for it to be known
that he is happily and irrevocably in love with Strife, God of
Mischief. Forever and ever.'"
A moment late the room was minus one messenger God, and Aphrodite
squeaked in surprise.
- - -
Hermes flashed into the Halls of War, and decided to just launch into
his message: "'Cupid, God of Love--'"
"I know," Ares interrupted him, then waved him off. "Go tell someone else."
Hermes huffed, annoyed, and flashed out.
- - -
Several dozen visits later he flashed into a little bar in Corinth,
where Hercules and Iolaus sat and discussed the possible cause of the
smoking pile of bones and blood that had appeared in a field outside
of Corinth the day before.
They stopped when Hermes arrived and gave him their full attention.
He clapped them each on the shoulder and stole a sip of Iolaus' mead
before: "'Cupid, God of Love, would like for it to be known that he is
happily and irrevocably in love with Strife, God of Mischief. Forever
and ever.'"
Hercules' jaw dropped and Hermes, sufficiently pleased, flashed out.
"Well," Iolaus picked up his mug and took a long sip, "I guess that
answers /that/ question."
- - -
The flash of light woke Joxer up, and Xena was on her feet, sword in
hand, before the God had finished flashing in.
"Ares!"
"Nope, wrong. Hermes. Me Hermes, you Xena. /Xena/."
Xena lowered her sword, "Hermes?"
"Yeah. Here goes," he kicked Gabrielle not so gently awake. "Don't
wanna hafta come back, do I? Here goes: 'Cupid, God of Love, would
like for it to be known that he is happily and irrevocably in love
with Strife, God of Mischief. Forever and ever.'"
And then he flashed away.
Xena stared at the empty space, "Oh."
"Huh. I wonder what that has to do with Stropacus?" Joxer mused.
Gabrielle turned bleary, confused eyes on him. "I think Stropacus
/was/ Strife. Now that I think of it, if you cut that hair a little
and put some different clothes on him--"
Xena cursed, "That means he was here trying to trick us into some kind
of trap for Ares--"
"Or maybe he was just on vacation," Joxer offered. "I thought you
decided you were going to try ignoring the Gods for a while."
"Yeah? It doesn't seem to be /working./"
"Well," Joxer rolled back over and attempted to get back to sleep,
"maybe you need a little more practice."
- - -
A long time after dawn that next morning, Hermes returned to Cupid's
bedroom to report his task finished, and found the lovers out cold and
wrapped tightly around each other and a rather girly set of
Hephaestian metal links.
"You're welcome," he said dryly.
And then he flashed out.
- - -
Joxer was well rested the next day, but pretty stinky too. He'd
excused himself from the girls, who'd decided they were going to
remain camped where they were that day to 'think about some of the
things you said yesterday.'
Which was nice, because he was pretty sure they hadn't done that before.
He was naked and half-submerged when something moved on the shore of
the pond and coughed.
He turned to see Ares staring at him.
"Er..."
Ares waited for a reaction. Expecting a yell or a recrimination, he
was flummoxed by what he got.
"Ares, did you have to startle me like that? I've told you a /million/ times..."
And Joxer went on in that vein.
And Ares gaped at him.
The man was... acting as if Ares flashed in to watch him bathe... all
the /time/. Like this was normal...
"Joxer."
"Would you come down here and wash my back, love?"
/Love?/ Ares mouthed. "I have a question for you," he offered weakly instead.
"Yes? Are you going to just sit there all afternoon?" Joxer grinned at
him, and Ares was beginning to wonder if he'd been sucked into an
alternate reality. Again.
"What you said yesterday to Xena," Ares carefully began, "did you mean it?"
"Which part?" Joxer cupped his hands in the pond water and tossed it
over his head, letting it rain over his face and into his hair and
down his surprisingly, leanly muscled chest.
"The part where you think I'm necessary?"
"Of course, Ares--"
"And the part where you think I can be ignored?"
"Oh." Joxer grinned at him again, and then sank chin deep into the
water, "afraid I'm going to forget you? Ares? I'll /never/ forget
you."
And the way he said it had Ares wondering what he was really doing
there in the first place.
He dipped into Joxer's head and looked at the world through the
mortal's eyes... and saw himself happy. Saw the memories, false but
somehow real, of them tangled naked together on his altar in Thrace.
Saw himself sink into that mortal and kiss his neck and claw at his
back. Saw Joxer bend under him and open up like an offering. Saw
Joxer's fingers dig into his hips, and almost felt the pressure on his
own hips.
"Oh."
He snapped out of Joxer's head and stared at him in confusion for a
moment, and then Joxer stood and waded out of the pool. Naked and wet
and scarred in interesting places that Ares was getting the odd urge
to lick.
His stomach twisted up, and then he remembered that he was the God of
War and he took what he wanted when he wanted it.
He met Joxer halfway, shedding his clothes with a thought, and pulled
him in for a fierce kiss.
Joxer's eyes widened before slipping shut, and he pressed up against
Ares hungrily, fingers seeking purchase on any bared flesh they could
get at.
When Ares pulled back, Joxer looked confused, and then his hand
reached up to touch the side of Ares' face. They paused there for a
second, and then pressed a little harder. "You're real."
"Yeah. And you're proving to be more interesting by the moment. Have
you got a problem?"
Joxer squeaked and took a step back.
Ares hooked his arms underneath Joxer's and pulled him back.
Joxer remained stiffened against him until Ares' tongue slipped past
the barriers of his lips and swept the flavor from his mouth. And then
Joxer whimpered and crumpled against him, and Ares swung him off his
feet and lay him down in the grass.
Joxer didn't lose the surprised look until Ares began toying with his
nipples, and by that time he was groaning into Ares' touch like his
body was starving for it.
And maybe it was... it had been so long since they'd... wait, they'd
never... Ares never even spoke to him. Ares was after /Xena/.
Ares was also touching him everywhere on the cool green grass by the
pond he'd just finished bathing in, and Joxer was having trouble
telling his realities apart.
Ares bit him and he came to ground.
"You're--/Ares/."
"Yes," Ares husked out, and pulled himself up over Joxer. "Are you scared?"
Joxer shook his head, and then paused mid-shake and began nodding instead.
"Probably a good idea."
Ares lightly bit his chin and then lave his ear with his tongue. Joxer
hardened imperceptibly more and humped up against his God. "Ares..."
Ares exerted a little pressure and Joxer felt coolness on his rear...
in his ass. And then Ares' fingers burned a trail that direction and
slipped roughly past his muscles, causing him to arch into the God's
free hand and whimper loudly. "Please don't go 'way," he pleaded,
throwing his head back.
Ares watched him writhe and stretched him further.
"Please? Please be here when I wake up. Don't go away."
Ares didn't make promises--"Never."--but there was something
about--"I'll never go away, Joxer."--the way Joxer moved around him
and--"And neither will you, right?"--clenched around him whenever he
said something.
"No. Yes. Never go away."
It was much too soon, but Ares was impatient and Joxer was desperate
already, and so the God of War lifted Joxer's legs around his waist
and guided himself to his warrior's body. "Are you ready?"
The head of his cock pressed against the prepared muscle, and Joxer...
Joxer cried out and growled at the /same time/. "Yes!"
Ares pushed in, holding himself back to cause the least amount of
damage. Joxer let him set the pace for the first few thrusts, and then
began to whine and move back against him. "So... good. Really you.
/So/ good."
Ares couldn't resist, and dipped into Joxer's mind to see the scene
through his own personal view of the world, gratified to suddenly find
himself in the exact same scene he was physically acting out.
It made him shove abruptly harder into Joxer. Three repeated jabs to
Joxer's prostrate.
Joxer's world burst in flashes of Godlight, and he cried out Ares'
name as he came.
Ares held out against the constraint of his inner muscles for a
half-thrust before giving in. He yelled out hoarsely in Joxer's ear,
and was rewarded with another squeeze as he spilled himself within
Joxer.
He held himself above Joxer and then toppled to his side.
Sated, they lay in silence for long, comfortable moments. And then
Joxer got up the courage to ask: "You're a God, right?"
Ares felt as if he'd been broken from the steamy spell, and he shifted
in the grass, "That's what they tell me."
Joxer winced. Translation: stupid question. "Right, so why..."
Ares waited for him to ask some ridiculously inane question like, 'Why
is the sky blue?' or 'Why does Falafel only make 'hot-dog' buns in
sets of eight, when he makes the 'hot-dogs' in sets of ten?'
But Joxer surprised him with: "Why do you feel so real?"
Ares shifted again, "I'm a manifestation of the beliefs of mortals,
and the natural need for a sentient power to govern the ebb and flow
of war in Greece--"
"No," Joxer stopped him, and then looked apologetic before going on.
"Why do you feel so real to /me/. Nothing has ever felt this real, and
I was wondering if it was because you're a God, or because you're just
you."
Ares stared at him in consternation, his look probably reflecting his confusion.
Joxer smiled and reached a hand up to shove an inky lock of Godly hair
away from his new lover's face. "Never mind, it's just you."
Ares' consternation turned to bewildered fascination, and they stayed
looking into each other's eyes until Joxer bent his head down and
brushed his lips across his God's.
Ares flashed them to the Halls of War.
And they did it all over again.
- - -
Hours later, Joxer woke hungry and, not wanting to wake his lover,
searched out the kitchen staff that a palace this big must have.
- - -
Xena and Gabrielle noticed him missing about ten minutes after that.
- - -
Having not found any staff at /all/ in the Halls of the War, Joxer
decided to go back and find Ares and ask /him/ for food. Ares wouldn't
begrudge him anything, Joxer was sure. And he was sure in the new kind
of way that meant he was probably right, and not in the old way that
meant he was probably dreaming again.
Halfway back, he stumbled over the hidden kitchens of the Hall and,
pleased, set upon whatever he could find there.
- - -
Alone and asleep in his bed, Ares stretched an arm out for his lover.
- - -
All of Olympus sat up a moment later, and stared towards the Halls of
War. And, one by one, flashed to it's kitchens.
Zeus got there just after Ares.
- - -
"He's got to be around here somewhere, Xena. His armor's still by the
pond, and you /know/ he never goes anywhere without that stuff..."
- - -
"I didn't /know/ it was Ambrosia. Geeze, you ought to label what's in
your larder, Ares..."
Ares looked at his father hopefully, arm hooked around Joxer's waist.
Zeus shrugged. "He's a God now, like it or not. He belongs on Olympus."
Joxer blinked, then looked from his lover to the King of the Gods and
offered up a bright smile, "Of course I'll come to Olympus. There's
really no need to beg."
Zeus looked nonplussed for a moment, and then his face became
impassive. "In your mortal life, you've demonstrated a... unique
ability to create your own world and live in it. As a God, you will be
called Fantasia. You'll be the God of Imagination and Fantasy."
"Fantasia?" Joxer's face screwed up. "That sounds like a woman's name.
Can't I be Fantasius?"
"Please don't argue with me."
"Or Fantasio. Has a nice ring to it."
"We'll just continue to call you Joxer, okay?"
"Fantastico. Strife, what do you think about 'Fantastico'?"
Strife threw his hands up when the host of Olympus turned their heads
to him, "Don't look at /me/, folks. Ah'm on /vacation./"
And then he flashed himself and Cupid back to the House of Love. Which
soon earned its name all over again.
Twice.
Fin
Epilogue (One Week Later, A Little Bar In Corinth):
"He just went missing. We searched all over, and in Thrace, and heard
you two were down here and we were hoping you could help us look for
him." Gabrielle bounced gently, turning concerned eyes on first Iolaus
and then Hercules.
Hercules sighed. "Maybe he went traveling on his /own/ for a while.
You said you'd been fighting the night before."
"But we worked that out! And he left his armor--" Gabrielle was cut
off by a tap to her shoulder, and behind her Hermes floated on his
winged shoes.
"Sorry to interrupt, but I have a message."
Hercules closed his eyes.
"'Ares, God of War, would like for it to be known that he is happily
and irrevocably in love with Joxer, God of Imagination and Fantasy.
Forever and ever.'"
There was more than stunned silence in the room, as the Grecians fell
to Hermes' announcement.
"Joxer's a--" Gabrielle squeaked, and the conversation around the inn
fairly /buzzed/. "--a /God/?!"
For a brief moment the memory of Joxer's fumbling crush resurfaced in
her mind. And then the rest of Hermes' message hit her.
"In love?!"
Fin Fin Fin
Footnotes: In Greek myth, the hero Herakles actually /did/ defeat a
monster called Geryon, who had three heads and three bodies--I'm
guessing they were attached at the waist, and all three shared a set
of legs. I've provided a link below to an illustration of Hercules'
twelve labors, of which the defeat of Geryon was the ninth. Or the
tenth, depending on who you ask. Another version of the myth, which
involves Hercules defeating Geryon and his two-headed dog Orthrus
(whom I read once was a mate of Cerebrus... 'cause, like? How many
poly-headed dogs are out there to pick from. Poor Cery...) to retrieve
Geryon's Spanish cattle. And in that version, it's the /cattle/ which
have three heads and three bodies, instead of Geryon who in that
version was just a guy.
They have to be attached somewhere, I'm thinking, because otherwise
they'd just have said Hercules fought three dudes for three cows or
something. Not very monstrous.